


Convergence

by Le_Confidant (Noire)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist: Conqueror of Shamballa
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Drama, F/M, Multi, Multiple Endings, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Post Fullmetal Alchemist: Conqueror of Shamballa, Racist Language, Romance, Sexist Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-10 19:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 15,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noire/pseuds/Le_Confidant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward got closer. He just couldn't believe how young she looked. For all he knew she could have been snapped away from Amestris just minutes after he had left her, never to return by her side. His brows knitted together from thinking about the painful memory. A gamut of 'what if's' suddenly invaded his mind and put weight upon his aching heart. Remorse was a cold bitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JFaust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JFaust/gifts).



> Convergence is a coming together of two or more distinct entities or phenomena but Edward Elric couldn't yet grasp how true such definition was going to become in his life. —An EdWin fanfic set post-COS— Inspired by the OVA titled "Kids" and stories about the Philadelphia Experiment.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had been a wonderful late summer day in New York City—one of the best in his entire life—and he was ever so grateful to have spend it with his childhood friend—
> 
> The love of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To new readers: thank you for taking time to check this story out. Please leave a comment so I know what you think about this story. To my followers: Thank you so much for your continued support! I promise to finish this story. The wait hasn't been in vain. Please let me know what you think of the rewrite. I sure would love connect with you again!

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Somewhere In This World**

 

 

 

Earth, 2005 A.D.

 

 

 

"Ready?" The boy with the long bangs asked his two younger siblings, who in turn, nodded a "yes".

They looked at each other—barely containing their excitement—and sucked in as much air as their little lungs could hold.

"Happy birthday!" The trio shouted with all their might.

 

 

 

 

Edward had been cooped up in the family den, his heart and soul wandering in the past, when he heard the children. He left behind the comfort of his chair, but not before leaving the photograph he had in hand (the one that showed his love for Alphonse) nestled between the coffee cup and his gray journal.

His crinkled face stretched with a smile at the sight of their bright faces. He couldn't deny that the occurrences of his great great grandchildren had a way to lighten the heavy load of his tired soul.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Songs were sang, candles were blown and a wish was made; Edward's great great grandchildren were shocked to learn about his age.

The joyful celebration was over before long, kids tend to lose all interest in adults after having cake. Edward made sure that they were kept busy at play before retiring to his room.

The smile that he had been wearing faded the moment he closed the door behind him. Edward rotated his right shoulder, the automail felt so heavy nowadays. He grunted as he worked on loosening the knots of his marred muscles. It was a task that did little for his aches and pains, but he would pay a steeper price if he didn't stretch.

Edward sat on the edge of the bed after finishing the routine. He was flexing the metal digits, one by-one, when he caught a glint of light from the corner of his eyes. He traced the source; a ray of sunshine was passing through a slit in the curtains, bouncing off the shiny display of his iPod Photo, stamping a rectangle of white light on the far wall. He picked up the modern device from the nightstand but he put the MP3 player back; something else had captured his attention.

Edward got off the bed and knelt in front of the small table. He pull open the bottom drawer and took a long security box from it. He struggled to get back up; the arthritis in right hip and knee flared right away. But it was nothing that some expletives could fix. It took him a brief moment to get back on his feet. Edward placed the security box on the bed, and punched in the four-number combination passcode. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and his heartbeat double, pumping in anticipation as he waited for the lock mechanism to disengage.

It had been years since the last time he had opened that box—his treasure box.

When Edward opened the box, he pushed around military documentation and some slide transparencies. He set aside the movie reel containing his favorite film. At last, he found what he was looking for.

Edward sat next to the security box with an old Polaroid in hand. The folds of his wrinkled forehead deepened when he discovered the terrible state in which the backside of the photograph was in. He could barely make the words written on it: _Liberty Island, 1941. Always yours. —xoxo—_

 

 

_Always yours…_ Edward repeated in his head, just as he flipped over the Polaroid.

His golden eyes flickered and his chest swelled with nostalgia for the young blonde posing in front of Lady Liberty.

Edward chuckled; he always thought that red looked good on her. It was the way the color brought out the blue in her eyes, making them look even more majestic than the sky itself.

_Winry…_

Edward closed his eyes when they began stinging, and his face broke into a loving smile when the memory of her laughter resounded inside his head.

It had been a wonderful late summer day in New York City—one of the best in his entire life—and he was ever so grateful to have spend it with his childhood friend—

The love of his life.


	2. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Golden eyes widened in surprise as they settled upon the unconscious woman laying on the stretcher. Edward’s heart hammered hard in his chest realizing he was face-to-face with his beloved childhood friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewrite uploaded! The chapter is 2,500 words longer, which means vivid narrative and realistic characterization. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Please don't forget to comment!

**Earth, January 8, 1940, A.D**

Lightning tore through the sky, branching out into small tendrils as it connected with the wet ground below. Thunder followed. The boom resounded inside the government-issued vehicle letting Edward guessing about the proximity of the strike to the car. He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed, another jagged bolt caught his attention. The electrical display made him wonder if his wife had purposely chosen that night to play the role of mad scientist, like the ones portrayed in films he’d watched in the recent past. Rain began pelting down hard.

”Just great,” Edward groused, his face scrunching up in annoyance.

“It’s that goddamn cold front.”

Edward slid his eyes to the man driving the GV. Ice blue irises were looking back at him through the rearview mirror.

“Seems like it,” he replied in a rather snobbish tone before returning his attention to the moving scenery, thinking that the Private should keep his comments to himself.

Minutes later, Edward sighed. He wished he could make out more of the surroundings so he could pinpoint their current location. The heavy rainfall made everything look distorted as if he was looking through a wide-angle lens.

“Fucking rain,” he griped, oblivious to the clenching and unclenching of his automail hand. A sudden twitch in his right shoulder sent waves of red-hot pain to the rest of his body, making him hiss.

“Did you say something, Von Elric sir?”

“No need to worry, Private,” Edward snapped, disregarding the soldier’s inquiry with a wave of his natural hand.

Another spasm was all it took to make Edward forget about his surroundings. He cussed under his breath as he tried to relax his aching stub.

“If you don’t mind me saying, you look rather pale, sir.”

Edward flashed his eyes at the Private. The look of genuine concern made Edward pinch his eyebrows together; that man officially made him feel like a jerk.

“How much longer until we reach The Annex?” He snapped, unable to restrain his irritation.

The Private’s eyes narrowed into angry slits. “About half hour, sir,” he answered curtly.

Edward didn’t feel the need to reply.

A long period of time passed by before Edward felt like he could relax. He sagged down, sinking into the contours of the car seat; there was plenty of space left to stretch his legs in front of him. His short stature, although a nuisance, came in handy when he needed it the most.

Edward closed his eyes and waited for the ride, and for the pain in his right shoulder, to subside. His eyes shot open when another lightning bolt struck nearby. He closed them again before letting out a tired huff; the natural phenomena reminded him again about the reason of his current misfortune.

 _That woman is going to send me to an early grave,_ Edward thought then sighed again.

 

 

Five hours ago, Edward worked in the comfort of his ample office, alternating grading papers with sips of hot arabica when his assistant entered the office to hand him a message left by his younger brother. Edward used a direct phone line (one of the many perks that came with a well-earned tenure at the prestigious Virginia Tech) to call Alphonse, knowing already that this _urgency_ had a name attached to it. What—or more exactly—who _she_ was putting at risk with her eccentricities? Edward managed to grade two more papers while his security clearance was being checked, another paper was graded as the call was patched to his brother’s private line.

Alphonse went straight to the point when the patch went through.

_“Brother, Dee has finally lost it. She wants to launch the final phase tonight!”_

He followed his panicked greeting by alerting Edward that a military agent was already on his way to escort him to The Annex.

 

 

 

The vehicle slowed down before making a sharp left. Edward only opened his eyes when the GV began bouncing on the road.

 _Finally!_ They had reached the unmarked road that led to The Annex.

The secret facility was the brainchild of a group of private investors and ran by the United States Navy at Naval Station—Norfolk, a military base established in the Virginia town of the same name.

The rain had subsided to a drizzle, and the pain in Edward’s right shoulder subsided to a dull throb, a discomfort he could get rid off once he obtained some medication.

After fifteen minutes down the bumpy road, The Annex appeared glowing bloody red against the dark backdrop. Edward’s brow tensed with worry, the facility displayed that type of luminescence only when the auxiliary generators were up and running.

“Dammit—she’s really going all out,” he muttered in utter disbelief; Alphonse hadn’t been exaggerating.

Edward caught the Private looking at him again through the rearview mirror. He shot him a warning glare before turning his attention back to the glowing building. Another five minutes went by before arriving at The Annex.

Edward jumped out of the government vehicle the moment it made a full stop. He ignored the drizzle soaking through his tweed coat and plastering his long fringe to his face as he made his way to the guard gate.

A beefy soldier with a sour look stepped out of the narrow shack when Edward approached.

“Identification and code,” he spat.

The man’s pinched eyebrows and scrunched up nose told Edward how thrilled he was for having to come out into the cold rain. Edward fished his military ID card (the kind issued to private sector contractors) from his coat pocket and handed it to the guard while spelling out his security code.

The soldier took the card with him, went inside the shack and picked up the telephone receiver.

Edward had the pleasure of waiting for his clearance under the cold drizzle. He crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight to his right leg. Amestris, Earth: no matter to which world it belonged to the military industrial complex was apparently designed to be a royal pain in the ass. Edward started tapping his automail foot on the wet pavement wondering how much longer he had to wait under the light rain. The cold drizzle had already soaked his hair and had finally penetrated through his coat. To add to his misery, the chill was making his automail port ache worse than before. Edward hissed as he rubbed his throbbing shoulder. He couldn’t help but glare at the soldier while he talked on the phone. He also showered him with obscenities that didn’t make it past the window glass.

The soldier nodded before hanging up. He came back outside and to tell Edward that his brother, Doctor Von Elric, was coming over shortly.

 

* * *

 

 

Alphonse flipped up the collar of his lab coat as soon as the cold drizzle hit his face. He looked up at the blanketed sky, wondering exactly when the weather had turned so nasty. His brow tensed with worry for his older brother, changes in barometric pressure always caused Edward unwarranted misery.

Alphonse hurried down the wet sidewalk and reached the guard gate in less than five minutes. His eyebrows pinched together when he saw Edward standing stiffly under the light rain.

“You could’ve offered him an umbrella, Private Collins,” Alphonse barked as he walked past the guard shack and towards his brother. He even offered the soldier a menacing glare, one that told Private Collins that his Commanding Officer was going to have a talk with him about his conduct.

And Edward couldn’t help but grin wide.

Over the last ten years, Alphonse had become a force to be reckoned with acquiring strong leadership skills under the caring mentoring of his wife. It wasn’t surprising that he became Chief Supervisor at The Annex and his wife’s right hand.

“Gee, Edward, you look terrible,” Alphonse mentioned, his voice packed with concern and sympathy.

“Yeah, I’m fucking dandy,” Edward replied, rolling his aching shoulder. His bitter sarcasm always brought a smile to Alphonse’s face.

“Let’s get you out of this miserable rain,” Alphonse offered, escorting Edward into the building. He looked over his shoulder and glared at the guard one last time before returning his attention to his older brother. “We need to hurry. I can’t stall any longer.”

Edward’s face scrunched up into a frown. “Is it that bad?”

Alphonse raised his hazel eyes to the height of the towering building. “You have no idea.”

 

 

 

The facility workers greeted Edward as he trotted alongside his brother down the main corridor. He wasn’t paying attention to their calls, though, he was much too preoccupied with his wife’s plans to even care.

They reached the test area. Alphonse pressed his twelve number access code on the security keypad. Edward didn’t waste any time and pushed the double doors open once the dead bolts retracted into the locking mechanism.

“Dee!” Edward’s loud shout echoed inside the large room. It was an impressive feat considering that the test area had been at one point in time a hangar reserved for cargo airplanes.

“Hey, Dee!” Edward called again as he walked past the main generators and past the icosahedron-shaped dome that housed a teleportation device (the heart of his wife’s outrageous experiment and the reason why Alphonse dragged him off campus) and headed towards the control room.

When he slammed the door open, he found his wife having a conversation with some of her subordinates. Startled by the sudden intrusion, she looked his way, only to frown.

“Why are you—never mind.” Her eyes slid from Edward to Alphonse who was standing closely behind. “So you went behind my back—” There was restrained anger in her gray eyes.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Edward cut his wife off. A stunt like that only served to unleash that controlled anger out into the open.

“What does it look like, Edward?” She sneered. “I’m creating history here!” She even threw her hands up in the air just for the sake of being dramatic; Edward wasn’t amused.

“Stop the test Wendy or I will!” He bellowed, slashing the stale air with his automail hand.

Wendy scoffed and placed her hands on her hips. “On whose authority, dear? Do I need to remind you that you’re longer part of this team?” A contemptuous smile grew on her face before adding, “Please refrain yourself from meddling into things that don’t concern you. Remember your place.” With that said, Wendy raised her chin high and looked down her nose at the brothers before strutting past them, heading towards an icosahedron dome.

Edward’s entire body shook with seething anger. _”Don’t you dare turn your back on me, woman!”_

Wendy didn’t bother to look over her shoulder, she kept sashaying the rest of the way to the dome. Once she reached the door, she punched in her security code into the panel and hurried inside.

Edward had no other choice but to swallow his pride and chase after his wife. He stormed his way to the dome and banged on the door when he found it locked.

“Wendy Ann Rockwell, open this door right now!” He yelled, banging on the door harder.

Alphonse, who had kept to himself the entire time Wendy and Edward made a scene, followed them to the dome.

“I got this,” he assured Edward as he punched in his access code.

The security panel didn’t activate. Alphonse tried his security code two more times but the keypad remained unresponsive.

Blinding anger proved to be the best medication for Edward, he hardly felt the aching in his right shoulder. Edward decided to put his right arm to the test by connecting a jab to the metal door. But one solid punch wasn’t enough so few more followed.

“Edward, stop!” Alphonse warned his brother as he trapped him in a restraining hold, but Edward had the audacity to fight back. “Don’t make public displays of your automail!” He hissed, reminding Edward of where he was and who was around looking at them.

The red strobe light hanging above the metal door activated, and a siren shrieked inside the hangar. Moments later, the main generators added their buzzing to the infernal sonata.

“Al, let go—!” Edward kept thrashing against the restraining hold. He was at a disadvantage since his younger brother was a head taller than him—not that this was going to keep him from trying. His wrath gave him the necessary strength to break loose.

Edward left Alphonse behind and ran to the back of the dome, climbing the stairs in twos, until he reached the observation room. Edward yanked the door open and headed straight for the intercom. He looked down at Wendy through the thick glass as he pressed the TALK button.

“Dee, please stop this insanity.” Edward pleaded, his voice husky, as panic with switched places with anger.

Wendy stopped what she was doing and looked up, offering Edward icy glare before resuming her duties. She ran a hand across the backrest of the metal chair as she went around to the other side; one last inspection before activating the teleportation device.

No one would’ve guessed that the fate of the entire project rested on that ordinary chair. The circuitry latching to the frame like vines to a brick wall, and the state-of-the-art control panels, transformed the simple piece of furniture into one impressive machine.

Edward pressed the TALK button for the second time. “Think of the risks—even the foremost authorities on the subject1 admit to having problems understanding the science behind teleportation!”

Wendy stopped adjusting the settings in the main control panel and picked up the headset (the only link between the icosahedron dome and the outside world) hanging from the right armchair. She adjusted the device over her head, extending the small microphone retracted into the casing of the left pad, and pushed the TALK button on the control panel. She breathed a deep, exasperated sigh before saying, “Stop pretending that you care, Edward.”

Wendy lifted her finger from the TALK button but not before offering her stunned husband one of her best glares.

 _”Foolish woman,”_ Edward told himself, shaking his head in utter frustration. Her indifference couldn’t hide the sadness that had crept into her jade eyes.

Wendy sat on the chair. She opened her white lab coat and the first three buttons of her red silk shirt. She then took the wired sensors hanging from the armrests and began adhering them to her temples, and to her chest, right next to the heart. She raised her eyes to the observation room but refrained herself from looking at Edward. Her attention went to Alphonse who had just walked into the room. She pressed the TALK button on the control panel.

“Alphonse, Wallace is going to take over tonight’s test—” Her eyes turned distant for a brief second before whispering, “I’m sorry.”

Alphonse’s expression darkened, clearly affected by the change in plans.

 _”Wendy, you can die!”_ Edward yelled into the intercom in hopes that she would listen to reason.

Dread suffused Edward’s eyes, infusing them with a vivid shade of marigold; Wendy cracked a rueful smile. She couldn’t remember the last time her husband looked so alive, the irony of the moment was exquisite.

“Then I will be a nuisance to you,” she answered defiantly.

Wendy went back to the task at hand. She turned a dial on the control panel, changing the channel to another frequency.

“Wallace, is everything in working order?” She said into the microphone and nodded when Wallace replied. ”Good,” she added while glancing at the expectant brothers. “Commence the countdown.”

Wendy changed the dial back to the previous channel. With her eyes fixed on her husband, she pressed the TALK button one last time.

"Edward, two large folders await you back at the estate. One folder contains divorce papers, which you’re going to sign immediately after confirming that the experiment was a success.”

Wendy paused as a wave conflicting emotions tore through her. Lacking the right outlet to work through her emotions, she was left with no other choice but to train her eyes on the teleportation equipment. When Wendy sorted out her sentiments, she raised her eyes at Edward. She encountered deep hurt and her resolve wavered again. But it was normal for it to waver, she reminded herself because they had a long history together…

Wendy took in a deep breath, her expression hardened.

“The other folder contains my will—in case I don’t make it to the other side,” she added and took the finger off the TALK button before changing the channel.

Wide-eyed and shaken, Edward stared at his estranged wife as he let out a shuddering breath. He was just starting to grasp the severity of the situation when the loud buzzing of the generators snapped him out of his train of thought. The entire room began vibrating as the dynamos reached maximum speed. It didn’t take long for ozone to saturate the entire complex.

Edward peeled his eyes away from Wendy and directed his attention to Alphonse, who was just as affected by Wendy’s recklessness as he was. “Is there a way to cut power to the generators?” He asked, interrupting his bitter musings.

“I’m sorry, Brother. Dee took the liberty to block me out.” Alphonse’s expression turned dark, realizing the full extent of Wendy’s betrayal.

Edward wanted to pull at his hair. When everything was looking bleak, Edward somehow found hope. He had a plan—a reckless plan that is—which involved the destruction of expensive equipment (and the incurrence of jail time), a plan he was about to execute when a second alarm triggered. The hairs on his head stood on end meaning that the generators had reached one-hundred percent capacity. The bizarre sensation was enough reason for Edward to start breaking the machinery. He was ready to storm out of the observation room, and get himself into all kinds of trouble when his automail leg gave out on him. He lost all sense of balance and fell to the ground hard producing a loud thump when he hit the concrete.

“Ed!” Alphonse rushed to his brother’s side.

“Dammit! They won’t respond!” Edward hissed, taking out his frustration on the automail leg by striking it with his left fist. He would’ve spared his knuckles the pain of hitting a solid object but his mechanical arm was out of commission.

“It’s probably the electromagnetism created by the generators,” Alphonse suspected. “The control room is the only room that’s insulated—but I’ve never would have guessed a force like this would affect your automail.”

Edward extended his hand to Alphonse before letting out an exasperated sigh. “Please help me up, Al,” he asked quite irritably, resigning himself to the challenges that come with being a double amputee.

And of course, Alphonse offered his brother a helping hand.

“It’s a good thing that we keep sparring, Brother—” Alphonse mentioned as he wrapped his left arm around Edward’s torso. He lifted him up. “Ugh—you’re heavy!” Alphonse heaved. He was having a hard time adjusting to the cumbersome automail.

Edward scowled, uttering a “shut up” as he shifted his weight to his right leg.

With his Alphonse’s help, Edward limped his way to the glass pane. He looked down from above and noticed that Wendy wasn’t looking well. Her skin had turned a sickly color and she was having difficulty breathing.

“That’s not good—” Alphonse mumbled when he noticed her shallow breathing.

Edward frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Alphonse flinched, realizing he had spoken aloud.

Edward’s stomach lurched when he saw a curtain of fear falling down on his younger brother’s face.

“She’s going into shock, Ed,” Alphonse informed him, strong eyebrows pinching into a deep frown; Edward’s eyebrows simultaneously pinched in horror.

“Stay here. I won’t take long,” Alphonse uttered (mostly to himself) before turning on a heel and rushing out of the room, completely forgetting that his older brother had lost his freedom of movement.

But Edward wasn’t going to stop his brother not if there was something he could do for Wendy. His eyes went back to his wife. He kept pushing away all unsettling thoughts, the ones screaming to his ear that he was going to witness his wife’s death that night.

The disturbing thoughts were overwhelmingly powerful. Edward began feeling giddy, a symptom of an impending panic attack. It was a sensation he hadn’t felt since he sacrificed his own life for the sake of his brother’s back at the amphitheater of the Forbidden City.

Wendy’s labored breathing brought him back to the nightmare of the present moment. His wife looked worse than she did minutes ago, her life was slipping away. Edward cursed. His inability to change the current outcome threatened to rip apart what little sanity was left in him. Desperation urged him to sprint into action. He had to try something—anything, Wendy’s life depended on it! But in his current condition, he couldn’t do much, except—

Edward limped to the intercom. After getting the device ready with just one hand, he pressed the TALK button.

“Can you hear me, Dee?” He was shocked at how shaky and meek his voice had come out. He cleared his throat as he waited for a response that never came.

Wendy was entering in and out of consciousness, the battle for life crushed Edward in unexpected ways. He buried his face in his natural hand and clenched his jaw tight so he could stop the urge to cry.

“This is all my fault!” He hissed through clenched teeth blaming himself for all that was happening.

Wendy’s ear-piercing shriek snapped Edward out of his current guilt trip. His pupils contracted into pins as he witnessed the unthinkable. His wife had sunk into unconsciousness—he hoped that Wendy was unconscious and not dead. Her inert body and the chair she was resting on began vibrating. The oscillation was slow but began rising to a level of intensity that made everything inside the room impossibly blurred.

The knot in Edward’s stomach told him that the event was far from over.

The vibration continued its steady rise until it erased Wendy and the teleportation chair out of existence, leaving an empty space when the oscillation stopped.

Edward didn’t feel the cold sting of automail as his hand covered his gaping mouth, he certainly didn’t notice how he had regained full range of movement. In the overwhelming chaos reigning inside his head, Edward couldn’t register that the generators had gone silent, only the most basic body functions were at work. His eyelids rebelled, refusing to blink as he stared at the spot where Wendy had been occupying seconds ago.

“Brother…” Alphonse tested as he entered the observation room.

Edward didn’t hear him at first, he only reacted when the strong impression passed through. Their distressed gazes met; Edward let his hand slide down.

“Did she make it to the other side?” He asked, wishing for a glimmer of hope amidst tragedy.

Alphonse’s foreboding silence chased it all away. His brow furrowed under the weight of what he needed to relay.

“Brother…Dee didn’t arrive at the target point.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Amestris, Continental Calendar July 8, 1919,**

The mattress dipped to one side as Winry got off. The springs didn’t squeak loudly, just like the salesperson guaranteed her when she was mattress hunting. The new acquisition was large, larger than anything she’d ever seen, and it was perfect. The purchase gave Winry a reason to have the master bedroom renovated. Her grandmother—rest her soul—would’ve approved of the many alterations made to her house. She would’ve gladly welcomed all changes if it meant that her granddaughter was thinking of settling down to have a family of her own.

Winry went about the room, gracefully undulating her curvy hips as she skirted around the bedposts, approaching the blond man still lying in bed.

Instead of going to her man, Winry took a detour to the vanity chair where an Amestrian military uniform was struggling to keep itself from falling to the floor. She picked up the dress shirt out of the bunch and slid it over her shoulders, lazily covering her ample breasts as she buttoned the shirt halfway up. The day-worn shirt still looked pristine, hardly any wrinkles were in sight. The delicate balance between sweat and perfume made Winry feel as if strong arms were hugging her half-naked form.

A coy look told Winry that her man had been reveling in the moment. Slate eyes lit up when she put on the blue wool jacket.

“You look so damn sexy, Win.”

Winry smirked.

“Such indecency, Mister Tringham!” She exclaimed, looking appalled but secretly loving the compliment.

A playful wink encouraged him to get off the bed.

He captured the little tease and pressed his body against her back, wrapping his arms around her midsection. His lips brushed over her right cheek before he nuzzled his face into the contours of her milky neck.

“Oh, but it is true, Miss Rockbell.” He planted a kiss. “You can make a military jacket look sexy as hell.” The words ended tickling her skin, making her wiggle away from the embrace.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Russell,” Winry cooed before giving him a smile.

“Is that so?” Russell recaptured Winry and slid his hands south until they reached her firm behind.

“I think it’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” He offered as he groped Winry over her exquisite pair of lace panties.

Winry raised a thin eyebrow at Russell before tearing herself away from his loose hands. She returned to the side of the bed and sat.

“Are you referring to this?” Winry lifted her left hand high so he could (yet again) appreciate the engagement ring adorning her finger.

Russell’s smile reached his ears. “Of course, Winry. What else would I be referring to?” He’d proudly slid that diamond ring on her finger a little over a month ago.

Winry’s eyes crinkled at the corners as their gazes met. Genuine love was always present in his eyes, reassuring her that what he offered was real.

“I can’t believe it,” Russell mentioned, his silly grin made her curious.

“What is it?”

“I can’t believe the most beautiful and brightest woman in all Amestris said ‘Yes’ to me.”

Winry smirked playfully. “Well…what can I say? Talented, kind, and a great cook; I wasn’t going to let a stud like you go.”

Russell snorted, amused by the light banter. “And here I thought you just wanted to marry a powerful alchemist.”

Winry rolled her eyes being more than accustomed to his brand of sarcasm. The boasting, however, didn’t sit well with her. Russell was a State Alchemist, and while she had learned to tolerate this, she couldn’t entirely hide her displeasure of being involved with someone in the military again especially when she had them to thank for the gifts of grief and resentment, sentiments which have left indelible marks in her life. Winry raised her ring to eye level, preferring to pour her attention on the beautiful diamond than on the painful past.

By the end of the year she was going to become Mrs. Tringham—maybe she’ll convince Russell of the benefits gained by keeping her surname, “All in the name of the family business”, of course. Thinking about the upcoming nuptials reminded Winry of the colossal task of having everything ready for the big event. They needed to find a venue in Resembool—maybe the wedding should be celebrated in Rush Valley? With Granny gone, it didn’t matter if they celebrated the wedding in her hometown. All her trusted friends lived Rush Valley. She could have Dominic walk her down the isle, and Paninya would be her maid of honor. Russell only had Fletcher as his immediate family so hosting a small group of people at the Automail Mecca wasn’t going to pose a huge problem. Select military members were going to be invited because the Emerald Alchemist’s wedding was an event they wouldn’t miss for the world.

Getting married and starting a family of her own has always been one of Winry’s biggest dreams, that and becoming a master automail engineer. Her career goals have been met and now she had committed herself to a serious relationship, having children would come next. At last, the broken pieces in her life were coming together, the happiness she always wanted was within reach.

Winry’s enthusiasm dimmed and she lowered her hand, her mind wandering. If she was more sincere with herself she could admit that complete happiness wasn’t something she could reach. Her parents and grandmother weren’t physically present to celebrate with her a new chapter in her life, but this doleful sentiment ran deeper. Winry always imagined herself sharing everything with her first true love—

“Thinking about him?” Russell’s scornful question interrupted her musings.

Out of the many things people can do to annoy her, jealousy ranked high on the list. Winry sighed, hating her future husband’s insecurities. There was an ocean between Russell and Edward, they simply were too different to be held under the same light, but Russell couldn’t see it. To him, Edward would always cast a long shadow over everything and everyone he cares about.

“I wasn’t,” Winry replied, shaking her head in mild irritation.

Having shared the same roof with Russell for over a year had taught her the value in telling white lies especially when tempering a truth made the difference between strengthening or breaking Russell’s self-esteem. Winry returned her full attention to the shimmering engagement ring. Lying was something that didn’t come naturally to her, the lies always left behind a bitter aftertaste.

Winry waited for a beat before asking, “Is Fletcher coming over this weekend?”

It was a good thing that she didn’t meet Russell’s face when she asked the question otherwise she would’ve been forced to confront his mortification. Changing the subject was her biggest defense mechanism and a guaranteed way of pissing off Russell when she used it on him.

His groan confirmed her suspicions; she had screwed up.

Blue eyes connected with slate-gray and a timid smile was cleverly used as a peace offering. Russell didn’t even flinch, so a coquettish wink and a playful nudge were used on him next. Thankfully Russell wasn’t good at holding grudges, he always surrendered to her charms. Now that the lines of communication were open, Winry moistened her lips readying herself to offer an apology.

“Russell, I’m—” An invisible force struck Winry like lighting.

Russell’s eyes widened in horror as they witness Winry gulping for air as if she was choking on something.

“I can’t breathe—I can’t—!” She gasped, wide-eyed, her voice straining.

Winry suddenly leaped out of bed, ripping off the military jacket as if it had caught on fire. It crashed on the floor with a heavy clack as the buttons, ribbons and insignias made contact with the wooden surface.

Russell, who had been too stunned to react, finally snapped out of his stupor when Winry’s panting transformed into a hideous wheeze.

In an act of sheer desperation, Winry turned on a heel and got out of the room like a bat out of hell.

Russell cussed at himself for not having put his clothes on when he had the chance, now he was scurrying about the room looking for something to wear so he could go after Winry. He could hear her bumping against the walls as he put his military pants on. His fumbling hands tried to zip up his pants while discarding the waist cape as he flew downstairs.

The smacking coming from the kitchen alerted Russell of Winry’s whereabouts. He entered the place only to find the back door flapping in the tepid summer wind.

The first thing Russell saw when he swung the door open was a curtain of buttery blonde hair hiding Winry’s face. She was hunched over with hands on knees, her chest heaving.

Den approached his master, whimpering. His perky ears flattened against his head and his tail hid between his legs as he sniffed her. Russell noted the canine lowered its snout to the ground and that’s when he noticed a large puddle of vomit. He took one step forward, and as he did, he caught Den backing away from Winry. A terrible feeling began forming in the pit of his stomach.

“Winry!” He called out to her, but she acted as if she hadn’t heard him.

For some unknown reason, Winry took off, waddling towards the main road with the grace of a drunken man.

Russell went after her. As he trotted downhill, he noticed her stopping. Out of nowhere, the ground began to oscillate. A loud crackle ripped through the evening sky before everything began shaking violently.

“What in the hell—!” He cried out as he tried to maintain his balance on the unstable terrain.

Winry’s agonizing shriek reached the heavens just as a transmutation circle began carving itself on the ground beneath her feet.

Russell staggered and faltered but he did his best to reach Winry, who collapsed face forward on the field. Up close, he could see an intricate array surrounding her body. The earth shook violently again.

Jaws of blue light raised from the ground up engulfing Winry’s inert body.

Static discharges began licking his body. The pain was so intense that he had to backtrack to a safer place. He was about to call out to Winry when the blue light flickered and disappeared.

The bizarre event was over.

It took Russell some seconds to recover his sight, and when he did, his jaw dropped. Winry was no longer laying on top of the transmutation circle. He looked around, foolishly hoping to find Winry safe and sound, but she was nowhere to be found.

Then it dawned on him, to his dismay, that the strange transmutation circle was his only companion on the grassy field.

 

* * *

 

 

**Earth, January 8, 1940, A.D — Twenty Minutes After The Experiment Was Completed**

A cacophony of sounds surrounded Edward. To his left, the Z3’s2 beeped and blinked as they chug out row after row of numbers in hopes that the output could somehow provide the answers to the whereabouts of his missing wife. To his right, Alphonse was chewing out Wallace’s head for not stopping the test when Wendy clearly showed signs of distress. The loud racket conspired with his pounding headache to make him feel worse than what he already felt. Edward did his best to drown most of the noise surrounding him by simply ignoring it. His ears did perk up when Wallace spoke of the team’s courageous efforts in trying to stop the generators from reaching maximum capacity. His heart was stabbed all over again when he discovered that Alphonse’s code wasn’t the only one that had been rendered useless. It looked like Wendy had broken all rules with her reckless actions.

 _But why?_ Edward mumbled to himself as he slumped in the only unoccupied chair inside the control room.

Edward folded his arms over his chest and closed his eyes so he could concentrate regardless of the pounding in his head. He went over the events that had taken place that night trying to find clues as to why Wendy pressed on with fucking experiment when all the data collected so far proved that more testing was needed before experimenting with live subjects. His lips curled into a deep frown as his thoughts led him back to the present moment. What Wendy did to her team (and to him in a way) didn’t make sense. The sheer disregard for human life, it was as if—

 _She knew she wasn’t going to make it…_ Edward tried to block the unsettling thought out of his head, but it was too late.

A profound sense of loss tortured his wretched soul. In an instant, he was forced to revisit old memories and buried sentiments, the misery he felt when he discovered that the Gate had spit him back to Earth replayed vividly in his mind. The unpleasantness of the past threatened to shake the delicate balance he had managed to reach with the aid of questionable methods. Edward shook his head, he needed to stay focused and in the moment and leave all traumas in the past. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. As he exhaled, he went over everything that’s happened in the recent past, including Wendy’s accusations against him as she strapped herself to the dangerous device. _Why is it we only think about our actions when someone gets hurt?_

Signs of desperation (of deep hurt) had been there all along, he just was too apathetic (too much of a coward) to acknowledge them. Edward’s face scrunched as he tried to suppress the guilt that wanted to crush him like the insignificant insect he was.

What hurt the most is that the respective authorities were going cut their loses by ruling out Wendy’s recklessness as suicide. Her legacy forever stained by her tragic ending.

“Omega point to Alpha point, come in Alpha point.”

Everyone in the control room went silent as the message crackled through the radio.

“Omega point to Alpha point, come in Alpha point—please come in Alpha point.”

There was a drop of distress in the call.

Alphonse’s mouth hung open for a beat, his hand hovering over the device’s TALK button. He had been expecting (as did everyone else) a call from the Target Site. Alphonse cleared his throat before pressing the button.

“This is Von Elric at Alpha point. What’s your 10–36?”3 Alphonse let go of the button.

Edward, who had been wallowing in guilt and sorrow, opened his eyes and sat straight. His eyes flickered expectantly as he exchanged looks with his younger brother. Like everyone else, he held his breath while waiting for a response from the Target Site. The team didn’t have to wait long to receive a response.

“At 2139 hours, the systems activated on their own and…” The pause injected everyone with suspense. “We extracted a subject from the landing pad.”

Alphonse released the breath that he had been holding in his chest. He pressed the radio button. “Can you 10–13 that last part?”

“We extracted a subject from the landing pad, over.”

Edward left the relative comfort of the chair to join his brother.

“10–16 ASAP,” Alphonse ordered, raking his hand through his short hair in nervous agitation.

The telephone rang, Wallace picked up the call, handing the receiver to Alphonse.

“Alphonse Von Elric speaking.”

Edward’s eyebrows tensed at his brother’s husky voice; fear was a powerful force.

Alphonse shot a glance at his brother before continuing, “I need full details about the subject mentioned over the radio.”

The loud thumping in his ears muffled what was being discussed over the telephone. It didn’t matter, Alphonse would repeat what he didn’t pick up on the conversation.

Alphonse’s hazel eyes flitted nervously from the CRT screen4 located in front of him to Edward and back again. A beat later, his shoulders tensed. He offered Edward a worried look before turning his back on him.

“You’re saying that the subject is not Dr. Rockwell—? Okay-okay, I’ll be right over in twenty.”

Alphonse handed the telephone receiver back to Wallace then dragged a hand down his face. He sighed long and hard before turning around to meet Edward’s hopeful expression.

“A Jane Doe materialized on the landing pad instead of Wendy.”

Edward’s golden eyes widened in astonishment; Alphonse shook his head in response, he too couldn’t fully comprehend what was happening.

“I’m heading over to the target site to assess the situation,” he mentioned to Edward in a tired voice.

Edward’s expression hardened. Whatever had happened at the Target Site was something he needed to confront.

“You’re taking me with you.”

The Target Site was in a classified location, not that it mattered, because Edward wasn’t going to take a “No” for an answer.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Brother.” Alphonse offered Edward his sympathy in the form of a kind smile. Then he turned to his assistant, “Wallace, please call the guard gate. We need a car stat.”

 

 

 

The ride to the Target Site was filled with copious amounts of tension, peppered with anxiety. Edward was at least thankful that it had stopped raining.

Alphonse came to an abrupt stop in front of the secret facility. He pulled on the hand lever so hard that the parking mechanism cried from the exerted force.

They exchanged irritated looks as they waited for the guards to finish running the security protocols. They both had to wait like schmucks, even when the two guards who were inspecting them were on the same basketball team as Alphonse. The irritating experience let Edward know that only a select few knew of the Target Site. Once they were properly ID’ed, they rushed inside the secret facility.

 

 

 

The Target Site was a maze of military tents with some domes thrown into the mix. The temporary constructions were setup so they would interlink. A large passageway connected the maze to the entrance of an old brick building, a rundown leftover from Colonial times.

Edward knew that looks were deceiving, especially when the military was involved. He had a good hunch that he was going to find a world of technological marvels inside the dilapidated structure.

They were both heading to the run-down building when a woman sporting a white lab coat crossed their path.

“Where’s the Jane Doe?” Alphonse asked her. He was pretty confident that by now everyone knew about the mysterious woman.

The researcher pointed to the left and not forward as Edward had assumed. He missed his chance to see what was inside the old building.

The brothers had to cross a few tents and connecting passageways before reaching the medical ward, the one that was erected in case of emergencies such as the current one. A young medic saluted Alphonse before granting him access to the infirmary.

Unfortunately, Edward’s civilian status prevented him from going inside.

Only a few seconds had passed by when Edward heard Alphonse gasp in shock.

“No…there’s no way—!”

Whatever was unraveling inside the infirmary must’ve been quite unsettling for Alphonse to have sounded so affected.

Silence followed a telltale sign that something was horribly wrong.

A thousand things went through Edward’s head in the few minutes he waited in front of the infirmary—all were grim.

Edward paced back and forth waiting for Alphonse to come outside. _Any moment now…_ He repeated the thought in his head like a broken record.

No sound or movement was heard in the infirmary. Edward clenched his fists so hard that the knuckles in one hand turned white while the bolts in the other whined. As if the chaos of that night hadn’t been enough, the suspense of not knowing what was happening inside the room consumed what little patience he had left.

He couldn’t wait any longer.

“I’m sorry,” Edward said, shoving the medic to the side and storming his way inside the infirmary.

Golden eyes widened in surprise as they settled upon the unconscious woman laying on the stretcher. Edward’s heart hammered hard in his chest realizing he was face-to-face with his beloved childhood friend.

“Why is Winry here—she shouldn’t be here!” Edward roared, his voice stricken with panic and confusion.

Winry crossing to their side of the Gate…Edward shook his head in vehement denial.

“What the fuck is going on?” He asked, searching his brother’s face for a reasonable answer because the set of events that led to this moment defied all logic.

“I don’t know, Ed,” Alphonse uttered, his eyes shifting from Edward to Winry, frowning.

Edward let out a shuddering breath; things had just gone from bad to worse.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **References**  
>  1 A reference to quantum mechanics and the people who contributed to it one way or another. Edward’s words refer to men like Max Planck, Albert Einstein, Niels Bohr, Weiner Heisenberg, Erwin Schrödinger, among others. (Source: Wikipedia).
> 
> 2 The Z3 was an electromechanical computer designed by Konrad Zuse. It was the world’s first working programmable, fully automatic digital computer. (Source: Wikipedia).
> 
> 3 Ten-codes, officially known as ten signals, are brevity codes used to represent common phrases in voice communication. These were developed in 1937 and expanded in 1974. (Source: Wikipedia).
> 
> 4 The first commercially made electronic television sets with cathode ray tubes were manufactured by Telefunken in Germany in 1934. (Source: Wikipedia).


	3. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winry looked well for being in deep coma for over two weeks. He’d told Alphonse the day before that he preferred to keep Winry in that state but that’ve been a lie. The last thing he wished upon his childhood sweetheart was for her to suffer.
> 
> Edward took seat on the chair closest to the bed. A fond smile appeared on his face while he contemplated her gentle features.
> 
> “You sure look like a fairy tale princess…”
> 
> A jolt of yearning shook through him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took a while but here's the next update. Around 8,000 words, a 40 minute read. Enjoy!

**Amestris, Continental Calendar July 8, 1919 — Twenty Minutes After Winry’s Disappearance**

Russell peeled his eyes from the abomination scorched on the ground to look at his surroundings. Stars were already decorating the sky. He pressed his lips into a thin line and crossed his arms in front of his chest returning to the unceremonious stance he adopted right after Winry disappeared into thin air.

His feet urged him to walk around the perimeter of the transmutation circle as if the act itself held the key to deciphering what had transpired before his eyes. Winry’s shrill still rose goosebumps on his skin.

The increasing tightening in his chest alerted him of an incoming a panic attack. He needed to calm the hell down because Winry needed him. A few minutes of deep breathing greatly improved his situation. Not only did the breathing exercise helped him regain his composure, the boost of oxygen offered clarity of mind. With his control in check, Russell crouched in front of the ghastly array; the tips of his right hand became moist with dew collected on the grass blades.

Russell looked over his shoulder and noticed the sun was about to tuck in. He drew in another deep breath and got to work before the sunlight completely vanished. He lowered to his knees. Leaning over the array, he touched the scorched surface.

“What the—” Russell uttered in complete disbelief. He sat on his haunches and brought his hand to his chin. The plant matter should’ve crumbled to the touch but it turned out to be as fresh as the rest of the grass carpeting the hill. The bizarre phenomenon sparked a thought: what if the alchemical reaction somehow altered the chemical composition of the chlorophyll in the blades that were part of the array? He made a mental note to acquire samples of the area in question to corroborate his suspicion.

After much scrutiny of the grass and soil, Russell finally stood up. He took two long steps back, and with hands on hips, he began studying the overall design of the array before it blended into the dark landscape.

The large transmutation circle comprised of two interposed triangles covering the entirety of the space. These triangles, equilateral in nature, formed a six-point star to the likes he’d never seen before. The four basic symbols needed for alchemical processes cross-crossed the shape; the sun and the moon slashed across it from top to bottom. Russell’s brows slowly knitted together. If the symbols for the sun and the moon were present, it meant that the array was designed to perform some kind of human transmutation—

“But the way it’s rendered…” Russell shook his head. “It’s all wrong.”

While considering other explanations, the ground beneath his feet began rumbling violently. His back had already hit the ground before he had a chance to realize what was happening. Russell stayed on the ground—wide-eyed—struggling to make sense of the chaos surrounding him. He caught sight of the eerie blue light that tore Winry from his side. Rolling on to his stomach, he tried to pull his legs under him in a kneeling position, but this proved to be a difficult task with all the shaking.

Transmutation circles, once activated, are quite a stunning sight to see; this monstrosity was not different. The electric discharge made Russell’s hairs stand on end. He watched in awe as the alchemical reaction finished running its course. A part of him feared being taken by the same light that stole Winry, but the other part, the one that was crazy-in-love with the automail engineer, wanted the array to send him straight to her.

The transmutation lit the night sky then it flickered to nothingness, just like the first time, then the ground calmed. It took a few seconds for the haze from the alchemical reaction to clear.

A spark of hope ignited in Russell’s chest and determination rose him to his feet. He stumbled forward after losing his footing so he closed his eyes and stood still waiting for the vertigo induced by the earthquake to subside. Once back in control, Russell approached the circle, only to gasp as his eyes caught sight of a dark figure laying still in the center of the array.

“Winry!” Russell called out, relief washing over him.

But the celebration was short-lived; a shiver of dread shot through him when she didn’t respond.

After the red water incident in Xenotime, and especially after the attack to Central Headquarters, Russell swore to himself to be more cautious. Under normal circumstances he would’ve followed his own advice, but his fiancée wasn’t responding to being called.

Russell entered the transmutation circle. As he approached Winry, he noticed she was laying sideways and with her back towards him. His stomach turned to ice when he saw honey brown hair crowning her head instead of blonde. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if the twilight was playing tricks on him.

Russell knelt next to Winry and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Winry,” he called out to her again. When she didn’t respond, he shook her shoulder. As he rocked her, Russell caught sight of a red blouse peeking from behind the white collar. A shuddering breath escaped his lungs recalling that Winry had been scantly dressed (with just his shirt and lace underwear) by the time of her disappearance. He jerked his hand away as if touching her burned; the woman laying unconscious before him _was not_ Winry Rockbell.

Russell’s breathing grew shallow as his pulse quickened. The panic he had worked so hard to keep restrained burst open from its cage. A soft moan snapped him out of his trance. Silver eyes widened in horror when he realized he’d been applying too much pressure to the stranger’s shoulder.

He loosened his grip but he didn’t remove his hand. After swallowing back a wave of foreboding, Russell rolled the woman onto her back.

“What—!” His mouth slacked in dismayed shock.

That woman…her face…the semblance to Winry was uncanny!

Russell looked over his shoulder expecting to find the fiend responsible for such vile trickery standing behind him, but only fireflies, and their phantasmagorical glow, were the only spectators in the area.

He turned to the doppelgänger. “Who are you?” The question would remain unanswered as long as the woman remained unconscious.

 

 

The night had already fallen over Resembool. Without a proper light source, it wasn’t safe to stay out in the open. Russell needed to make sure that the woman wasn’t hurt since she hasn’t regained consciousness yet.

He gathered the woman up into his arms. On a closer inspection, he noticed that Winry’s double wasn’t young. The woman looked like she was in her mid-to-late thirties. “Incredible…” he mumbled, fascinated by the surreal quality of the moment.

A strong light bounced off the stranger’s face; Russell traced it to the right field. His body tensed. He’d been so distracted admiring the woman’s beauty that he forgot to watch his own back. Russell deposited the look-alike back on the soft grass. It was at times like this when he regretted not having his alchemy arrays tattooed on his hands; he was left with no choice but to put all his faith on his combat skills.

In the back of his mind Russell wished for the attackers to be amateur alchemists so he could at least have the physical advantage in the fight, but that transmutation circle was really something. He let out a cynical snort before clenching his hands into tight fists. Beating these people into a bloody pulp would most certainly be therapeutic.

“Is that you, Russell?”

A wave of relief washed over him when he recognized farmer William calling out to him.

“Yeah…” He said, sounding almost apologetic. The old coot didn’t know how close he’d been to being pummeled to the ground.

The farmer lowered his lamp once he got closer. “Are you two ok?”

Russell cursed under his breath. There was no way of stopping the man from getting caught up in this mess.

Farmer William almost dropped the lamp on the field when he saw the gigantic transmutation circle. His shock was soon replaced with suspicion once he caught sight of the doppelgänger. He flashed angry eyes at Russell.

“Boy, where’s Winry?”

Farmer William’s outrage was understandable. The man had been Winry’s overseer after Pinako left this world. Him, being caught shirtless, and in the company of a total stranger, was reason enough to raise suspicion. _But there’s no time for explanations!_

Russell steeled himself, determined not to let the man intimidate him.

“Let’s talk later, Will.” He said, meeting the farmer’s gaze and holding it for a brief moment. He then turned his attention back to the unconscious woman. “I think she might be hurt.” His eyes slid back to the older man. “Please help me carry her inside.”

The farmer raised his eyebrows, stunned by the young man’s audacity. His brows came down and settled into a deep frown, but other than that, there was no complaint.

 

 

**Central City, nighttime**

Roy admitted to himself that he had a good day. His apartment was throughly clean, he’d made both lunch and dinner (and lunch bags for the first half of the week), paraded the streets of Central in neatly-pressed civilian clothes, and even had a chance to catch the afternoon matinee. Now, he was back home, feeling the exhaustion of the busy day in his bones.

After tossing the keys next to the telephone, he started to take his shoes off. As he bent to pick up the expensive pair, the telephone rattled into life. Roy’s face screwed into an expression of annoyance.

Leaving his shoes on the hardwood floor, he straightened up and curled his hand around the receiver. He let out an exasperated sigh, hating everything about that telephone.

Roy pressed the receiver to his ear, his face settling into his usual hard expression.

“Brigadier General Mustang, speaking.” He might as well answer the call like he was at work; nowadays, all house calls were work-related.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the past hour, sir.”

Riza’s chiding made Roy crack a rueful smile. He closed his good eye and smirked, then said, “I was on a date, Major.”

A few beats later she replied, “You don’t date anymore.”

“An excellent observation.” Roy couldn’t hold back the dry humor; her words had been as sharp as her shooting. He barely concealed his wistful sigh.

As much as he hated to admit it, Major Riza Hawkeye was a killjoy. Why couldn’t she let this one slide?

Roy’s thoughts drifted to the past where the good ol’ days resided. He particularly remembered his little black book, the one bursting with ladies names. Fuery had acted as his personal secretary so he wouldn’t mix the names of his dates. He raised a hand to his face and touched his eye patch. A frown darkened his face. What woman in her right mind would want to date a disfigured man?

“What happened?” He asked, turning his back to the past and focusing on the present.

“At 2134 hours East City’s National Earthquake Information Center relayed a message to Central Headquarters. They reported that an earthquake with a magnitude of 4.5, and a depth of 3.25 clicks, had been recorded in the Resembool region.1”

Something out of the ordinary must’ve occurred for the Major to have taken the liberty of contacting him for this on his day off 2. “Go on.”

“At 2159 an aftershock of the same magnitude and depth affected the region.”

An interesting detail. “Any casualties, collateral damage?”

“None have been reported yet, but the bulletin mention a strange phenomenon occurring during both quakes. A bright blue light illuminated the parcel owned by the Rockbell’s—"

“As in Rockbell Automail?” Roy interrupted.

“Correct, sir.”

Roy gritted his teeth, his ulcer reacting to the disconcerting news. He placed a hand flat against his stomach and concentrated on his breathing, but the notion of a neighboring country testing unknown weaponry on Amestrian soil kept breaking his concentration.

“We might be dealing with a new type of technology, sir.”

Riza’s comment validated his suspicions.

“I need the telephone number for Rockbell Automail, Major. Right now, the Emerald Alchemist is staying with his fiancée. He can inform us of what actually happened.”

“Understood, sir.”

Roy sighed as he set the telephone in its cradle. He leaned against the wall, waiting for Riza to call him back with the telephone number. A sharp sensation began poking his bad eye—as if the storm in unleashed his stomach wasn’t bad enough. Roy’s mouth curled into a sour frown. The discomfort, he could handle, what was happening in Resembool, not as much.

Amestris enemies, after the fall of the Bradley regime, had been waiting around like vultures for the government to keel over so they can feast on its fetid carcass. What happened in Resembool sounded like someone was getting impatient and wanted to speed up the process by unleashing terror among unsuspecting citizens.

The telephone shrieked like a banshee; Roy snagged the receiver from the cradle. “Took you long enough.” The thought of coming off as boorish crossed his mind but his wretched mood made him not care.

“This is the Emerald Alchemist reporting from Resembool.”

Roy’s brows drew together in mild confusion. Wasn’t Riza supposed to call him? He shrugged his shoulders; either way worked for him.

“It is safe to assume that you already know what happened here?”

Russell centered him. As his mouth got ready to supply a answer, he remembered that the line was unsecured. “Emerald, give me your phone number. I’ll call you back in five,” he offered instead.

There was a brief pause, then Russell said, “It’s 78–720–9990–12.”

Roy heard the line disconnect. He pressed the reset button then dialed headquarters where a military operator established a secure line for him. Four clicks later, he heard the line ringing.

“Was it a terrorist attack?” Roy went straight to the point once Major Tringham picked up the telephone.

Russell contemplated the doppelgänger lying on the maintenance chair. “I’m not sure, sir.”

“I was informed that a blue light illuminated the night sky following each earthquake."

Russell scowled, remembering how the ground decided to shake him like the wind shakes a leaf. He put the upsetting thought on hold, and said, “Correct. It happened close to Rockbell Automail.”

Roy switched the receiver to his other ear. “Where you present during the phenomena, and was it alchemy related?”

Russell’s brow creased as an image of a shrieking Winry came to life in his mind. “Yes, sir. The earth shook first, then a transmutation circle drew itself on the field right under Winry’s feet.” His free hand clenched into a tight fist. “The blue light grew from the array, engulfing her. When the light vanished, so did Winry.”

Roy couldn’t believe what he just heard. He and the Major had been right about the deployment of unknown weaponry. _But how is Miss Rockbell connected to all of this?_ That part Roy couldn’t decipher yet. “Your fiancée is still nowhere to be found?”

“That is correct.” Russell paused a moment to gather his thoughts; a lot had happened in one night. “The aftershock occurred while I was inspecting the transmutation circle. The quake reactivated the array, and the blue light engulfed the circle like before—” His gaze snapped back to Winry’s look-alike. “When everything was over, I found an unresponsive female lying in the center of the array.” Russell sighed, after a slight pause, he said, “The woman is not Winry, sir.”

Roy was thinking of stories in which a transmutation circle was used to swap bodies when his head snapped up. _Could it be human transmutation?_ An intense sense of dread pooled in his stomach; the Elric’s account of the Gate of Truth came rushing to the front of his mind.

“Is this woman an exact replica of your fiancée?” He needed to find out if his subordinate was dealing with a homunculus.

For several beats, static was the only sound heard across the line. Panic urged Roy to say something but then Russell spoke.

“She’s not a carbon copy of Winry. Her features are the strikingly similar but her coloring is different. And she’s also several years older.”

Roy thanked his lucky stars; at least they weren’t dealing with another immortal abomination. As he let out a sigh, he remembered Riza mentioning the sighting of a strange blue light.

"Emerald, has someone else seen this woman?” The sharp breath heard across the line answered that question. Roy pinched the bridge of his nose then said, “I’ll take take of it tomorrow after my arrival.”

“You’re coming over?” Russell asked, a strain of disbelief lacing his voice.

“Just be prepared to hand me a detailed report of what has happened so far. I will need a list of all witnesses and their possible link to the transmutation circle.”

Roy was well aware of the huge burden he loaded on his subordinate’s shoulders, especially when the blond was still dealing with what happened to his fiancé, but desperate times call for desperate measures. He’ll make it up to the boy after the incident in Resembool is resolved.

“Will do, sir. Is there anything else you need me to do?” Russell’s tone was understandably snappish.

“That is all for now.”

Roy gingerly placed the receiver back in its cradle after the phone call ended. His thoughts drifted as he ran a hand through his hair. There was a theory he couldn’t share with neither the Major or Emerald, not without a proper investigation. He hoped to be wrong, because if he wasn’t, then it meant he’d failed sealing the passageway connecting to the world the Elric brothers now called ‘home’.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Earth, January 22, 1940 A.D.**

One try, two tries—Edward still couldn’t unscrew the cap of his favorite brand of brandy. He scoffed. The house staff had suggested multiple times to ditch the bottles in favor of more elegant decanters, but he was content with the original packaging. “The challenge makes the alcohol taste even sweeter!” has always been his favorite answer.

Red-rimmed, glassy eyes contemplated the finely-crafted glassware. The tumbler had been a simple gift Alphonse gave him to celebrate their first anniversary together on Earth. He snorted loudly, the irony of the moment too good to let pass by. His baby brother had no fucking clue about how deep his vices ran. Lesson learned, he supposed.

Edward finally managed to open the bottle. He poured not two but four fingers of brandy into the glass. His unsteady hand curled around his favorite old fashioned tumbler. He swirled the amber liquid around and grinned. The tumbler was magnificent. Alphonse told him it was made of the finest blown glass anyone could find in the economic-ravaged Munich. A large flammel, the legacy of their teacher was cut into the smooth surface. The flammel used to stand as a symbol of hope, now it was the crutch Edward needed for moving about on Earth. He chugged the liquid balm to keep his nagging brain on check. As a preventive measure, he poured himself another. With the drink on hand he staggered back to his desk.

The elegant desk commanded space in his private room the same way the large banquet table did in the dining hall. Edward chuckled amused by the comparison, knowing that his ridiculousness meant he was close to passing out.

“About time too—” He hiccuped as he went around the desk and plopped into the leather chair.

Brandy splashed on his shirt; Edward chuckled some more. One more stain wouldn’t make a difference, he’d been wearing the same clothes for days on end.

Edward put the tumbler on the table and pushed it away from the edge of the desk. _Because it would be a damn shame it if broke._ His eyes slid to the item sitting close to the glass. He wouldn’t mind breaking the engagement ring beaming a bright smile at him.

A sneer creased his face. Edward picked up the tumbler with the intention of erasing the lines of contempt with the brandy. He tried to chug down what didn’t spill on his shirt but he had become too clumsy and ended drenching his scruff as he downed the amber liquid. While mumbling expletives that would make his own mother turn on what was left of her grave, Edward whined about not filling the tumbler to the rim. Once again, his conscience was catching up to him so he set the tumbler down and picked up the ring instead.

Front view, side view, back view; the ring looked vulgar no matter the angle Edward turned his hand at.

“Whoever gave Winry this ring is a fucking idiot,” he uttered, his eyes narrowing in disdain.

Winry was special. She was not the type of woman who would like gold set with a princess-cut diamond.

“You,” he said to the ring, “Needed to be a platinum band of the purest quality. Simple in design, because your owner is an automail engineer, one of the best there is.” His eyebrows huddled together, considering. "Maybe a diamond ring would suit her just fine but it needs to recede into the band, that way it won’t interfere with her work.”

Edward’s eyes became distant. The last time he saw Winry had been inside the Underground City. He’d been expecting to see the same girl he left behind but found a stunning woman instead. As if the shimmer in her eyes capturing his heart wasn’t bad enough, her kind expression took everything else, leaving him breathless.

Nostalgia coiled around his heart, giving him the same aching embrace it did back then.

Edward remembered wishing for a moment suspended in time, so he could talk to Winry and catch up on their lives—to say what was never spoken but felt between the two of them. Instead, he had to resign with spending their awaited reunion on a rushed automail job.

The old memory painted a wry smile on his face. Who was he trying to fool? Those minutes spent with Winry had been a true blessing. The unhinged pain he experienced from automail reattachment had felt like a gentle caress; he had her gentle smile to thank for that.

Edward couldn’t hold his smile for long, the memories that followed turned it into a deep scowl.

Although seventeen years had passed by, he still could recall with cristal clarity the exact moment he’d decided to kill a part of himself. His loved ones always told him he had a flair for the dramatic so severing the airship wing after Mustang and his brother went across it seemed like a befitting end. His transmutation flawlessly sliced through metals of varied size and thickness, and it also sliced clean through his heart and soul. The sense of finality that came along with the decision of leaving all behind still echoed within.

 _“But what about Winry! She misses you too!”_ His brother’s bellowing plea did too.

Edward picked up the tumbler to take another swig of brandy forgetting it was as empty, like his soul. He clenched his jaw and ground his teeth. “What about Winry?” He scoffed, hating every fiber in his body for the callous answer he’d given him.

Alphonse’s heartbreak almost made him falter. The truth he spoke sparked to life what he’d avoided most of his life. His brother had made him yearn for Winry’s warm embrace.

“I had no choice,” Edward croaked before his throat clogged.

A glint coming off the diamond brought him back to the bitter present then sent him straight to the night of the teleportation experiment. Everyone in the facility witnessed what can be considered a miracle but he and Alphonse knew it as Equivalent Exchange. Wendy accomplished what he couldn’t—to travel back home—and Winry was proof positive her success.

Alphonse peeked into the study. “Brother?” His eyes searched the area until they found Edward sitting at his desk, his face lost in deep thought.

A stab of worry pierced his gut. He’d been absent for days trying to cover up the incident at The Annex. Now that he had a chance to come home, he finds his older brother looking haggard and disheveled, and absolutely miserable. Edward was in far worse shape that was expecting.

“How are you doing?” Alphonse said as he let himself in.

He was beyond exhausted but he knew Edward needed him at the moment. After all, his brother’s world had been turned upside down by the whims of fate once again.

As he approached Edward, Alphonse noticed something shining in his natural hand. Sympathy transformed into frustration when he recognized the article in question.

“Edward, what is the matter with you?” He stormed the rest of the way to the desk to try and snatch Winry’s engagement ring from Edward’s hand but his brother proved too fast for him.

“Dammit, Ed, that’s not yours—” He began, but then the foul mix of alcohol and sweat careened all thought. “My God you’re ripe!” Alphonse cried out as he stepped away.

Edward kept his glazed stare trained on his brother for a few beats. His hand clammed up around the ring then taunted Alphonse with a petulant snicker.

“Well of course it’s not mine, Al. I don’t have bad taste.”

If this conversation had taken place under other circumstances Alphonse would’ve played along. At the moment his brother’s banter was infuriating. Hazel eyes noticed the damn tumbler he’d given Edward was keeping him company.

“How much did you have to drink?” He chided, taking stock of his brother’s drunken state.

But Edward chose to remain silent. He opened his hand and pinched Winry’s engagement ring between two mechanical fingers, and glared at it like he was doing way before Alphonse entered the room.

“For Christ sake, Ed! You can’t keep doing this!” Alphonse roared.

When he lunged forward, Edward drew back his automail arm, thinking that his brother was trying to snag the ring again, but Alphonse went for the tumbler instead.

The seething anger his on younger brother’s face was disconcerting. Edward took a deep breath, deciding to change the subject before the tension between them escalated.

“How’s she doing?” He asked, his words slipped out in a croaked whisper.

Alphonse scoffed in utter frustration, despising the way Edward avoided talking about his drinking problem. He looked away for a moment and considered the question; a profound sense of impotence creased his brow. Turning his gaze back to his brother, he said, “She’s still unresponsive.”

Silence fell between them. Alphonse took the opportunity to return the tumbler to the liquor cabinet. He didn’t look at his brother’s face when he left his side, Edward’s grief was burned deep in his mind.

Alphonse reached the cabinet. When he opened the door, his face paled with dismay. The inside of the cabinet looked as if it’d been ransacked; half of the liquor bottles were gone and the ones that still remain were almost empty. His grip on the tumbler became tighter. Alphonse forced his fingers to relax otherwise he was going to end up with glass shards buried deep in the palm of his hand. Grumbling to himself, Alphonse stuck the tumbler inside the cabinet. The flammel etched to its surface mocked him as he pulled his hand away. He considered right then, like he’d done many times before, to break the yoke driving his brother towards a path of self-destruction.

“Thirteen days,” Edward muttered, steering Alphonse back to the present moment.

As Alphonse turned to his brother, he encountered misery and despair. Sighing, he closed his eyes. “It’s been fifteen days, Ed, but you wouldn’t know this because you’ve been hammered this whole time.”

Edward squeezed Winry’s ring tight in his mechanical hand as he searched for the sense of shame he knew he should feel. But his thoughts derailed, and a vague expression of concern shadowed his face. “You think she’ll ever wake up?”

Alphonse lifted his eyebrows before setting them into a worried frown. “I sure hope so.”

Edward became pensive, considering his younger brother’s words. A beat passed by, then two. Edward tucked the engagement ring in his pant pocket then pushed the chair away from the desk and stood up. He made damn sure to steady his gait as he circled around the desk. His hands curled around the edge of the desktop as he leaned on the desktop. After another pause, Edward said, “Then we need to start working on a way to send her back to Amestris.”

Eyes wide, mouth slowly gaping, Alphonse stared back at his brother. “I don’t get you, Ed.” He forced himself to bite back a sharp retort. “Don’t you want Winry to wake up from her coma?”

The sturdy mahogany creaked, succumbing to the cruel grip of automail. Edward glared at Alphonse. Under normal circumstances he would’ve made sure that his face was the first thing Winry saw when she regained consciousness, but that wasn’t the card that fate dealt him. Edward smoothed his expression free of all emotion. “Al, you know well the answer to that question.”

“I can’t believe you!” Alphonse’s nostrils flared in outrage. _“You’re so selfish!”_ He spat those three words in utter contempt.

“I didn’t ask for your goddamn opinion!” Edward snapped back, allowing his control to finally slip. He brushed off the filthy fringe stuck to the sides of his face, and added, “If a coma is all it takes to keep her safe then so be it!"

Jaw tight, teeth clenched, Alphonse hissed, “Not this again!” Edward was lucky that they were related by blood otherwise he would’ve socked him square in the face. “Edward, you might be wrong about the Gate.” He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was fighting off a headache.

“Don’t you dare feign ignorance, Alphonse!” Edward roared. “You fucking saw it. You told me yourself!”

Alphonse, let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, fine. I saw the memory of this world3 when I crossed over.” He shook his head. “Ed, what Truth showed us might not even happen.” He met his brother’s gaze and saw him lost in the machinations of his troubled mind.

“I had to see _it_ twice!” Edward raised two angry fingers. “Twice goddammit! The message is fucking clear.” He stopped his rant and pondered for a moment. _It has to be, otherwise—_ The mahogany crunched in his automail grip.

Edward lifted his hand away and saw the damage inflicted on the desk. Crushed and damaged, he saw himself reflected in the wood. Edward cradled his automail hand with his natural hand. His shoulders slouched as he fell back into silence.

Alphonse’s mouth flattened into a grim line; baring witness to Edward’s self destruction wasn’t easy. After so many failed attempts at fixing his brother, he realized that all he could ever do for Edward was to help him find his footing after every fall.

Alphonse walked across the room and leaned on the desk right next to his brother.

“Brother—” He began but became distracted by Edward’s stench. Determined to withstand the body odor, Alphonse steeled himself, because his brother’s wellbeing was above all else. He laid a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “You know well that the future is composed of multiple outcomes playing out at the same time4.” Squeezing his shoulder, he added, “I know you mean well, Ed, but for the love of all that is good and right, can you please stop beating yourself up and wait to see how things play out?” Alphonse searched Edward’s face, his expression hopeful. “Please?”

Edward turned his attention to the carpeted floor beneath his feet. “Fine,” he grumbled then pursed his lips in a hard line.

Alphonse smiled, but behind his smile hid worry. Becoming lost in his thoughts, he wondered how Winry’s sudden appearance on Earth was going to affect them all. He shook his head not wanting to know the answer to that question.

“I’m heading off to take a shower.” Alphonse announced and pushed himself away from the desk. He stopped midway to cast a quick glance at Edward. “You should take one too.” A mischievous grin spread across his face. “You wouldn’t want Winry waking up because of your revolting stench, now do you?”

He left the private study before Edward had a chance to retaliate.

 

 

**The Following Day**

Edward combed through his lustrous locks one more time before tying it up in a ponytail. Fresh notes of bergamot and lavender filled the air around him, making the pungent smell of alcohol and sweat seem like a bad memory. He dabbed more perfume on his neck and the sides of his face just in case something unpleasant still lingered about him. Alphonse was right, he needed to look his best in case Winry came out of her coma.

Two strong knocks on the door caught Edward’s attention.

“Master Edward, are you decent?”

Edward smirked, recognizing the housekeeper’s velvety voice. He combed through the ponytail one last time before walking to the door.

“Good morning, Mavis,” he greeted and cracked a smile upon inhaling the invigorating aroma of coffee.

Edward stepped aside to let Mavis in.

Ample hips swayed back-and-forth mimicking ocean waves as Mavis sauntered about the room to the coffee table tucked by the large window pane in the master bedroom. "French roast coffee straight from Louisiana5, black and strong, just the way you like it,” she said with a gorgeous smile framing her rounded face.

Edward returned the smile. “Did you make it yourself?”

Mavis placed the tray on the table. "Yessir!” Her voice was as melodious as a birdsong.

She picked up the coffee pot and poured the hot beverage in the ornate porcelain cup. After setting the pot to the side, Mavis dropped four sugar cubes into the coffee and dissolved them with a silver spoon. “Master Alphonse said that you needed a pick-me-up." Mavis added as she handed Edward his coffee.

"Thanks, Mavis.” Edward took a sip, wincing slightly as his lips came into contact with the hot liquid.

“You’re welcome.” The housekeeper’s wide smile brightened the entire room.

Mavis bowed her head then made her way to the door, stopping shy from opening it. “Master Edward?” She called as she turned around.

Edward looked up from behind the coffee cup. “Yes?”

Mavis gestured at combing a beard. “You’re looking mighty fine if you don’t mind me saying.”

Edward felt his cheeks burning. “Are you flirting again, Mavis?”

“Always, Master Edward.” She winked at him then turned to leave.

After Mavis was gone, Edward brought a hand to his face. He’d always preferred a clean-shaven face over having facial hair, but since his beard had grown like weed in the past weeks, he decided to keep it. _This appearance will be much easier on her._

Winry’s smile kept Edward company while he finished his coffee. He left the empty cup on the tray then went to the nightstand where he’d left her engagement ring. His eyes narrowed into angry slits when they settled on the bejeweled ring.

“Well, at least you give me an excuse to visit her,” he said to the ring as he picked it up.

Edward stashed the band into his pant pocket. He’ll visit Winry after taking care of some important matters.

 

 

Time tends to fly by when in good company. Edward’s conversation with Petru, the gardener, couldn’t have come at a better time. He’d decided to take a break from searching through archived materials, a task he commenced right after his brief meeting with the house staff. When he sat in the courtyard, he thought he would turn to ash. The noon sun was shining strong, a rare treat for that time of the year. Petru had been pruning the bushes when Edward spotted him.

He’d asked the old Corsican to join him for some hot coffee, which Mavis at the time was about to bring.

Petru’s stories about his homeland always interested Edward, but it was the tales about Napoleon what he always look forward to. Out of all the historical figures Edward studied over the years, Napoleon was by far his favorite. And Petru didn’t disappoint. His narration was so vivid that Edward felt like he was listening to one of his radio shows. The Corsican had a streak of mischief running in him, though. He loved telling stories but had a passion for a good banter. His favorite quip was telling Edward how there was no cure for ‘Napoleon Complex’. And of course, Edward laughed—just barely.

The warm sun, an excellent cup of coffee and the jocose exchange did wonders to improve Edward’s mood. He felt more energized and with a positive attitude about the future.

After going back inside, Edward headed the private study. There was still some time to kill before visiting Winry in the blue room. When he opened the door, he found Alphonse siting by his desk, with arms folded and a deep scowl scrunching up his face.

"Brother, where are all the family pictures?” He spoke before Edward a chance to do so.

Edward’s muscles tensed; Alphonse responded to his reaction with a glower.

Knowing that there was no way of escaping his younger brother’s scrutiny, he said, “I told the house staff to take everything down.” Then watched Alphonse’s reaction.

Frowning at the lack of emotion in his brother’s voice, Alphonse sucked in a breath, and grumbled, “Edward, you promised me that you weren’t going to do anything stupid!”

Edward blinked at him, like an owl. It was a rare treat to see Alphonse lose control two times in a row. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared hard at his brother. "And I’ve kept my promise, Al. I haven’t had a single drop of alcohol and I smell like fresh cut spring flowers—hell—I even tried a new look. Do you like it?” He quipped, knowing that no matter what he said or did, he already won his brother’s contempt.

Alphonse bared teeth. “Cut the clown act, asshole!”

His face stunned, Edward stared at his brother. “I’m looking out after Winry’s best interests.” He answered, his demeanor turning sullen.

“And you’re accomplishing this by leaving your beard, and by keeping the existence of your wife and children a secret. Wow! Good call.” Alphonse sneered sarcastically.

Edward supposed this was what he deserved for being a jerk.

But Alphonse seemed to have forgotten that he was talking to his big brother.

Instead of approaching the desk, Edward went to the leather sofa and plopped into it. He stretched both arms across the back, then crossed his natural leg over his automail knee.

“What’d you think will happen when Winry wakes up?” More than a reprimand, his question was meant to make Alphonse stagger. “I’ll tell you,” he continued, “She’ll freak out when she realizes that she’s in a strange place surrounded by complete strangers.”

Staring at his brother, Alphonse considered several responses to his answer. He settled on the simplest one. “We’re not strangers, Ed.”

Edward’s eyes slightly narrowed. "Are you sure about that?”

Alphonse shifted uncomfortably in his chair; Edward knew he hit more than a nerve with the question. He continued with caution.

“Seventeen years have passed for us, Al. We’ve lived almost half of our lives without her—shit—we hardly even resemble our younger selves.” Edward paused for a moment, then added, “The last time I checked myself in the mirror I saw thirty-four year old man staring back at me. And you’re no spring chicken neither.” His thoughts went to Winry. “Think about the psychological impact our current appearance can have on her."

Alphonse averted his gaze to the old journals sitting on the desktop. “I didn’t look at it that way,” he muttered.

"Well fortunately I did,” Edward replied.

The image of Winry laying unconscious on the bed of the medical ward suddenly became vivid in his mind. He frowned.

“How will Winry feel after meeting my children?”

When Alphonse raised his eyes to Edward, he in turn, looked down at the floral carpet under his feet. Crestfallen, he said, “Patricia looks so much like her…and Benjamin is a spitting image of Urey."

Edward looked up and met his brother’s own dejected expression. Swallowing hard, he added, “That’s how our children most likely would’ve looked like if we had gotten married.”

Alphonse’s eyes moistened; he understood all too well the burden his brother bears.

Edward eyes remained as dry as an abandoned well, but the scars in his heart—like his stumps—always ached and hurt. His demons were becoming anxious, he got up and headed to the door before they had a chance to torment him some more.

He stopped at the threshold and turned around to meet his brother’s gaze. He said, “I promise to tell Winry about my kids and about Wendy when she wakes up, given that she wakes up at all.”

Alphonse offered Edward a small smile then nodded once. “And I’ll be there to support you, Brother.”

Edward returned the smile with one of his own, though his was as empty as his soul.

 

  

Edward rapped on the door and waited for the nurse-in-turn to open. The blue room was the largest guest room available in the Rockwell estate. Wendy told him once that this room had belonged to her great grandfather, a lieutenant who fought at Balls Bluff6 during the Civil War. The Confederate’s had won that particular battle, thanks to the small contribution he’d made, although little credit had been given to him for helping the cause.

Some ruffling was heard on the other side of the door. Lithe strides followed, and soon after, Edward met nurse McCarty’s crinkling face.

“Good afternoon, Von Elric, sir.” The nurse greeted as she let Edward inside.

“Good afternoon, nurse McCarty,” Edward replied with a light nod, then entered. “How’s the patient doing?”

“Sleeping Beauty is doing just fine.”

A wide grin slid across her face, her expression that somehow reminded Edward of Aunty Pinako.

"Im glad to hear that.” He offered her a tense smile in turn.

After the unsavory exchange with Alphonse, Edward didn’t feel like talking, and nurse McCarty looked like she didn’t like partaking in small talk, so they both descended into awkward silence.

Not wasting another moment, the nurse looked at her watch and said, “Do you mind if I step out for a cigarette break?"

“Not at all.” Edward was relieved that she’d taken the initiative. He stepped to the side to let nurse McCarty through.

“Thank you, sir.” She said as she exited the room.

Just as Edward was about to close the door, the nurse reappeared. “I forgot to tell you that I gave the girl a sponge bath, and nurse Williams was in charge of today’s exercises7.”

Edward held up a smile. “Thank you for letting me know.”

The older woman returned the smile then left.

His smile fell the moment he closed the door. He turned around and settled his eyes upon Winry, who laid motionless in the middle of the bed. Her peaceful expression drove a dagger into his chest.

Winry looked well for being in deep coma for over two weeks. He’d told Alphonse the day before that he preferred to keep Winry in that state but that’ve been a lie. The last thing he wished upon his childhood sweetheart was for her to suffer.

Edward took seat on the chair closest to the bed. A fond smile appeared on his face while he contemplated her gentle features.

“You sure look like a fairy tale princess…”

A jolt of yearning shook through him.

Edward got up and sat on the edge of the bed taking great care not to disturb Winry’s slumber with the shift in weight. As he settled, it occurred to him that he was playing the part of the prince. Would capturing her rosy lips in a kiss wake her from her deep sleep? Shaking his head, Edward couldn’t help but to laugh at his own absurdity. No kiss would ever wake Winry—and he definitely was no prince. He stroked her cheek gently with his natural hand, eyebrows slowly pulling together in contemplation. Winry looked so young, like she’d been whisked away from Amestris minutes after he’d abandoned her. But Winry Rockbell arrived on Earth scantly dressed.

After sneaking the unconscious blonde out of the Test Site he’d ordered the house staff to hand over all of her few belongings. The inferno he lit in the private study got rid of all evidence linking Winry to their home world. It was a shame that the fire wasn’t strong enough to destroy her engagement ring. He’d poured whiskey on his favorite tumbler and sat down in front of the fireplace to watch the fire dance. The schmuck getting into Winry’s panties was in the military, the proof had been carved in the buttons of the dress shirt.

“Why would you do that?" He searched her face. “Didn’t you have enough already?” The silence he got in return made his chest ache.

Edward fished out the engagement ring out of his pocket. An expression of bitter contempt curled his lips. He wanted to crush that stupid ring but couldn’t. Pushing away his frustration, he decided to focus on the slow rise and fall of her chest.

“Winry…” _Why did things had to end the way it did?_ He shut his eyes against the painful sensation of wanting what he could never have. “It should’ve been me who’d given you this ring,” Edward choked out.

Regret, if not remorse, crept up on him. He cursed himself for the direction of his emotions.

Edward took Winry’s hand in his. “I’m so sorry, Winry—for everything.” He muttered while sliding the ring on her finger.

Squeezing his eyes hard, he fought bravely against the ache of tears in his throat.

Edward began breathing slowly trying to regain full control of his emotions. As he breathed, he felt a soft squeeze of the hand. Edward snapped his eyes open. Blue eyes, as clear as a summer sky, were staring back at his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **References**
> 
>  
> 
> 1 Terminology taken from USGS website.
> 
> 2 July 8, 1919 landed on a Tuesday. The original chapter the date was June 8 which was a Sunday.
> 
> 3 A loose reference to Schrodinger's Cat.
> 
> 4 Loose reference to Carl Jung's human collective unconscious.
> 
> 5 Reference to the coffee served at Café Du Monde in the French Quarter of New Orleans.
> 
> 6 A decisive battle during the American Civil War were the Confederate's won.
> 
> 7 Comatose patients are given exercises to help keep some muscle tone in the effort to help the patient against the debilitating effects of being confined to a bed.


	4. Three

The rewritten chapter will be added in due time. Thank you for your patience!


	5. Four

The rewritten chapter will be added in due time. Thank you for your patience!


	6. Five

I will work on this, promise.


	7. Six

The rewritten chapter will be added in due time. Thank you for your patience!


	8. Seven

The rewritten chapter will be added in due time. Thank you for your patience!


	9. Eight

The rewritten chapter will be added in due time. Thank you for your patience!


	10. Nine

I know, I know.


	11. Ten

The rewritten chapter will be added in due time. Thank you for your patience!


	12. Eleven

The rewritten chapter will be added in due time. Thank you for your patience!


	13. Twelve

Did you reach this far? Yes, I will be replacing this stupid placeholder at some point.


	14. Thirteen

Wow, the least time I wrote for this story was on October 31, 2014. Two years already!!! Don't you worry the rewritten chapters will be added in due time. Thank you for your patience!

**Author's Note:**

> I know that in the OVA the trio are descendants of Alphonse and not Ed but for the sake of this story I went ahead and made the kids Ed's great great grandchildren.


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